


Moonlight in Derse

by bugbee



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Noir, F/F, Implied Violence, Mystery, Noir Detectives JaneRezi, Private Investigators, Rivals to Lovers, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-04-21 08:15:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22053571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bugbee/pseuds/bugbee
Summary: Muggings, murders, gangs, drugs, Derse has it all. You once came to this city as a bushy-tailed young Prospitian, but now? You can’t afford such optimistic views. You’re here to do a job, and do it you will.Your name is Jane Crocker, and you’re the best damned private eye this godforsaken city has to offer.Now if only that blasted lawyer would stop interfering...
Relationships: Calliope/Roxy Lalonde, Jane Crocker/Terezi Pyrope
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Moonlight in Derse

**Author's Note:**

> This is my HSRen Discord Secret Santa gift for Domi! You asked for Janerezi pitch power detective girlfriends, and I hope I've delivered!

Cigarette smoke curls lazily through the air, coating the dimmed room in a thin layer of mist. The acrid smell of tobacco could burn even the heaviest of smokers’ throats, but you’re different. Hardier. Stronger. In a city like this, you have to be. Muggings, murders, gangs, drugs, Derse has it all. You once came to this city as a bushy-tailed young Prospitian, but now? You can’t afford such optimistic views. You’re here to do a job, and do it you will. 

Your name is Jane Crocker, and you’re the best damned private eye this godforsaken city has to offer.

Your newest client is a pretty young broad, even with tears streaking down her face, and were you a lesser women, you may have flirted with her. But no, she’s here for one reason only: her wife is missing. The cops won’t help, when do they ever, so she’s come to you for advice and help.

“Mrs Lalonde,” you says gently, taking a trembling hand in your own, and she nods tearfully.

“Yes, detective?” Her voice quivers with hope and worry, and you resolve to do the best job you can do. This poor lady doesn’t need any more grief.

“Tell me everything you know, where you last saw your wife, and if there’s anyone who would want to hurt her.” She nods slowly, face becoming thoughtful, and you retract your hand to flip open a notebook. Time to write things down.

“Well,” she begins, hands wringing her skirt, “Callie and I were goin’ for a picnic, there’s a nice quiet spot close to Mayor Grove, you know. We always go there, and she told me she’d meet me there at 3pm. When she didn’t turn up, I just suspected that she had gotten waylaid by someone, she’s always been the polite type, my Callie, but when I tried callin’ her, she never picked up. It’s been three days, and I know her, detective, she wouldn’t run out on me like the coppers suggested.”

A fresh wave of tears stream down her face, but her voice is furious at the incompetence of the police. You nod soothingly at her, hands quickly noting down her story. If her wife is as devoted to Mrs Lalonde as she is to her, then something absolutely smells fishy here.

“Do you know which route she was taking? From where?” You prod softly, and her lips purse.

“She was visitin’ her brother, I think, why I have no clue. He’s a brute of a man, detective, the worst sort you can get in a place like this. But she said that he needed her for something, and while she doesn’t like ‘im, she’d never leave someone hangin’. But if anyone’s taken her, then it’s him, detective. He’s never liked her, always bullied her, but... well, he has a lot of power here. So we were never able to do somethin’,” she says angrily, hands balling up into fists, and you give a hum.

Seems pretty open and shut, but you are curious as to who the brother is. Hopefully, you can use some contacts to negotiate, or maybe even come to some sort of deal. You’ve had your fair share of run-ins with the mob, and while most don’t like you, they respect you.

“What’s the brother’s name?”

Mrs Lalonde sighs, eyes avoiding your own.

“Caliborn. Caliborn English,” she answers quietly. You lean back in your chair and release a heavy breath.

Well fuck. That’s a big name in a place like this, belonging to an even bigger person. You’ve only had one or two tussles with Caliborn English, but none of them are experiences you wish to repeat. You’d prefer to deal with any gangster apart from him. He’s a crude brute, cunning and cruel despite his own incompetence, and it makes him a pain in the ass to deal with. His gang, the Felt, sparks shreds of terror into most people’s hearts.

But looking into Mrs Lalonde’s resigned posture, her reluctant acceptance that no-one will help her, your determination floods back.

“Mrs Lalonde,” you call out, and she turns to look at you. “I’ll take your case. Pro bono even. Anything for a pretty lady.”

Her lips spread into a surprised grin, and joyful tears flood her eyes.

“Really, detective? You will?”

You nod, and she lets out a delighted laugh.

“Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She leans across your sturdy desk to throw her arms around your neck, and you can’t help but flinch. But it’s easy to give her back an awkward pat, and she doesn’t linger for long.

“I’ll get started immediately, just leave whatever materials or clues you might have with me, and I’ll do my best,” you explain, and she nods vigorously.

“Of course! I’ll send ‘em all over!” She starts to tug on her coat again, gathering up her handbag and gloves, and walks over to your door. She pauses before she leaves, blonde head turning to look at you.

“Thank you again, detective,” she says gratefully, before slipping out of your office. With her gone and the door shut behind her, you lean back into your leather chair and sigh. This won’t be an easy case. Not at all. But you made a promise, and you’ll be damned if you won’t see it through. Flicking through the notes you made, you begin to string open a pattern, trying to piece together some clues.

A few hours tick by, and your secretary has brought you more cups of coffee than you can count, carefully stepping through the mess of papers you’ve scattered around in your pursuit for details. You barely notice him, instead engrossed in the possibility that English may have dragged her off to one of his warehouses. But that would need further investigation.

There’s a few sharp raps on your door, and you startle up, blinking at the sudden darkness that’s filled the room. It’s already night-time? You must have been at it for longer than you thought. Yawning slightly, and letting your body stretch, you wander over to your door. Just before you open it, someone kicks it open, and you dart backwards, hand reaching into your suit pocket to pull out your trusty gun, pointing it threateningly at the intruder.

A loud, familiar cackle fills the air, and you scowl.

“Pyrope. What’s a sticky lawyer like you hanging around in these parts?” You spit out, and her grin widens.

Terezi Pyrope. She’s a type of... rival you could say, but your real clashes come out in the courtroom. You respect her ability to twist even the worst criminals into a confession, but damned if she isn’t infuriating. She poaches your cases once you’ve solved them, going to your clients and helping them with legal justice, nabbing your evidence and taking it as your own.

“Aren’t you happy to see me, Crocker?” She coos, cane sifting through the files on the floor and messing them up even further. “I even came here to offer my assistance!”

You’re immediately wary. You’ve teamed up with Pyrope before, and while she’s ridiculously good at it, you don’t trust her for a second. Besides, you think with a hint of embarrassment, it usually ends up with the two of you back at your place for a night. She smirks at you, as though she knows exactly what you’re thinking, and you grit your teeth.

“What do you want, you soul-sucking leech?” She cackles at your words, and leans across your desk, facing you nose-to-nose.

“Just to help. I heard that Calliope Lalonde went missing, and since her brother’s such a high profile figure... well, let’s just say I want him behind bars. And if you can manage this case... maybe you can help me back too,” she says lowly, scratchy voice gentle in your ears. She moves even closer, and a shiver runs down your spine.

“So what do you say, Jane? Will you let an old pal help out?” Her breath is feather light against your cheeks, and if you just moved slightly closer, you could even press a kiss-

No. No, you have to stay professional. You’re trying to do a case here, after all. No matter how... nice it would be to get frisky in your office-

“Enough,” you snarl out, giving her a light push away, for both her and your own sakes. Her teeth glint in the pale moonlight streaming in through the window, lips still curved in a smug smile.

“I’ll let you help. But only for this. You’ve dealt with English before?”

And just like that, she immediately becomes professional, though her brow furrows with distaste at the reminder of English.

“Yes,” she answers, voice gritted, “he’s a slippery fish, managing to even evade my own attempts to nab him. But somehow he always manages to wriggle out at the last minute. We’ve got evidence, more than enough evidence, but... well, I suspect Police Commissioner Scratch is in his pocket.”

You hum at her words, not quite agreeing, but you’ve had similar suspicious for a long time. There are just too many coincidences. You pull out a silver flask from your coat pocket, letting yourself take a swig of whiskey. You always knew the police were corrupt, but this corrupt? God.

Terezi has flung herself into the chair your clients usually sit in, limbs flung gracelessly across the seat. You take another swig to hide your smile.

“Do you have any potential clues that could lead us to Calliope?” You ask after a while, and she smacks her lips thoughtfully.

“Potentially, yes. There’s a famous movie star, Jake English, rumour has it he has some ties to Caliborn, despite his insistence that the name is just a coincidence,” she explains, causing you to snort.

“Coincidences? In Derse?”

She grins.

“That’s what I thought too. Well, Jake English has a lotta cash, and plenty of houses. It’s likely that he just might know where Caliborn has hidden Calliope away.”

You nod slowly, carefully making note of it.

“It’s a good lead. The best I got so far,” you reply begrudgingly, and her smile turns smug. You hate having to admit that, but it’s the truth. You were close to going to an old... acquaintance and asking for some information. The price would have been exorbitant though, and you definitely would have to burn through several favours.

One doesn’t deal with the Midnight Crew without losing something.

But with Terezi’s assistance, you won’t have to go down that route just yet. Though that does remind you to contact Ms Paint, you still need to thank her for her help in your last case. How she puts up with her husband, you have no idea. Spades Slick is a bastard, but a loving one it seems towards his wife.

“Well then, let’s get to his studio. It won’t be easy, but-” you start to say, but Terezi cuts you off.

“No, not the studio, too many eyes. But I may have an in with his manager, Ardata Carmia. She’s a bitch, but a damn good manager, able to fend off even the most rabid fans. She can be quite fun to have a drink with, when she’s not on the job. And I may just have some... information that could allow us to meet with Jake directly, in the Two Moon Club,” she says smugly, and you rest your chin in your hand.

“The lawyer, using blackmail to get what she wants? How scandalous.” Your voice is flat, but some humour curls around the words, and Terezi snickers.

“Oh please,” she shoots back, “in this city, it’s practically legal.”

Well, she has you there.

“What’s the information?”

“Apparently some shmuck was harassing Jake a while back, but strangely, he backed off after being beaten to a pulp by some... unnamed juggalo individuals. Rumour has it she bought out some goons from the Dark Carnival to help take care of the problem,” she replies, and you nod thoughtfully. The Dark Carnival may be one of the more... unsavoury gangs, but they’re easy enough to deal with, if treated with respect. Still, you had heard whisperings of Carmia being a former member, but well, you may take off the face paint, but the face paint will always linger.

“That could work. Worst comes to worst, we can try to... accost him on his way home. Maybe catch him in a compromising position. There are murmurs that he’s involved in a torrid love affair, though with who, no-one knows.” You shrug.

“We’ll see, I suppose. But hopefully, this should help give us a start,” she says absentmindedly, and you hum in response.

Time to go hunting a movie star, you think. He better hope his acting is good enough to fool you.

* * *

The bouncer at the front of the Two Moon Club is easy enough to fool, especially with the expensive clothes you and Terezi have draped yourselves in. You’ve pulled out an old black number, the smooth fabric slinking across your curves and flowing to the floor, while a long slit on the side of the skirt gives your legs enough room to move. You doubt there’s going to be a fight... but you’ll be damned if you’re unready. A red belt stands out starkly around your waist, as does the soft red feather boa wrapped around your shoulders. Terezi had teasingly placed a teal headband on top of your curls before you entered the Club, and out of spite, you keep it there. You look pretty fucking amazing, if you do say so yourself.

Terezi though, is never one to be out done. Her gleaming red glasses are polished enough to act as twin mirrors, while her normally messy hair is smoothed down into a ponytail. A sharply cut suit envelops her body, teal trousers and shirt surprisingly not clashing with her red waistcoat and bowtie. Her cane shines in the dim lighting, but you have no doubt that her weapon is still discreetly hidden within it. Your own gun is still hidden as well, after all.

She links her arm with yours, playing the part of the high-class patron with her pretty arm candy very well, despite how infuriating it is to be relegated to that nature. Still, you plaster on a ditzy smile, and settle on stepping on her shoes with your high heels, delighting in the disgruntled scowl that flickers across her face each time it happens.

The Two Moon Club is as exotically lavish and extravagant as you had expected, golden chandeliers glinting in the dim orange light. Pink diamonds and emeralds seem to glitter like stars from their position on the walls, tastefully recreating the two moons the club is named after. Smooth jazz swirls lazily throughout the room, sensual and gentle in your ears. Silk and velvet chairs are scattered across the smoky room, soft cushioning ripe for someone to lounge in them. The heady scent of perfume and cigarettes clouds the air, and if you were a lesser woman, maybe you would have felt light-headed. Much to your chagrin, Terezi seems just as unaffected.

“Well?” You whisper softly into her ear, scanning the room for any sign of your target.

“Oh don’t worry,” she murmurs back, breath tickling your hair, “he’s here. I can smell it.”

She weaves the two of you masterfully through the smoke, hand tightly clasping yours, and for a moment, your heart skips. She truly is handsome tonight, but... no. You’re here on a mission, this is purely business. And purely business is all this will continue to be.

Terezi leads you into a side corridor, frowning at the shut doors blocking your way.

“It ends here, but... well, he’s not alone in there.”

“His... lover?” You ask tentatively, and she shakes her head.

“No. Someone else,” she replies, and the tensing of her body is enough to set you on edge. Suddenly, she yanks the two of you away into the room next door, pushing you up against the wall and shushing you softly.

You swallow at the closeness, and from this distance, you can feel the warmth of her body against yours. There’s a flush of teal against her skin, and a part of you wonders if it’s the lighting tricking your eyes, or if... it’s something else. She isn’t looking at you, instead focusing towards the corridor, but the tight grip of her hands around your shoulders seem to become more gentle, more... lingering.

You hear a door open, and the sound of a woman talking, voice low and husky.

“-nd don’t forget, Jakey-boy, the Lord appreciates your assistance in this matter. If you do a good job, well... maybe he’ll consider your debts repaid. We’ll be in contact.”

Her voice is a bare whisper to your ears, but you can make out enough to snarl silently at her words, at the implications. High-heels clack down the corridor, slowly growing fainter and fainter. Someone sighs heavily, and you can hear another pair of footsteps approaching the door.

“Jake? Jake! Who the fuck was that bitch?” A haughty voice calls, out, before disappearing into the room. The door clicks shut, and you expect Terezi to move away, but she doesn’t.

Instead, she’s looking at you, a smirk on her face.

“There’s the manager,” she whispers, and you hum.

She still doesn’t move.

“We should go talk to them,” you offer up.

“Probably.”

She leans closer, glasses almost clinking against yours.

“You look quite pretty today, Crocker,” Terezi purrs, and you smirk back.

“Why thank you, Pyrope. You’re not too... shabby yourself.” You let a finger trail up her neck, lightly tracing her chin and cheeks.

It would be easy, you think, to just... lean forwards, and press a scorching kiss against this infuriating woman’s mouth, but-

Professionalism, you try to repeat in your mind, try to use as a restraint. Professionalism-

Oh, fuck it.

You push forward and catch her mouth in a kiss, cocky and wild, just like her. She kisses back, smooth and burning, just like you.

It’s glorious.

But soon enough, you both have to pull away for air, and you spot the smear of your lipstick against her lips. It makes you grin, and she snickers softly, before pulling away. You try not to feel too disappointed, instead tugging back a thin veneer of seriousness.

“So, that was the manager?” You ask, and the quiet kiss you had just shared seems to shatter away into the past. Terezi nods, already moving back out of your hiding spot and towards the shut door. You follow suit, eyes trailing back to the wall, and almost wishing you could continue. But no. You’ve been distracted enough.

Terezi raps against the door softly, and a muffled voice answers her, growing closer as they approach the door.

“This is a _private_ room, if any of you peasants have dared to disturb us for some stupid, inane reason, you better hope that your job is the _only_ thing you lose-!” The door is wrenched open, and you find yourself face to face with three glaring eyes, cerulean eyeliner only amplifying her narrow, unamused gaze.

“Hi Ardata,” Terezi calls out, voice smug and smirk gleaming, “we just wanted to chat.”

Her painted lips twist into an unpleasant smile, her own fangs bared threateningly at the two of you.

“Oh? I was unaware we had anything to discuss, Terezi,” she replies, voice sugary sweet, dripping with malice and poison.

“It won’t take long, promise! We just need to have a quick talk with your client over there.” She nods towards the room, and you can barely spot the startled form of Jake English, before Ardata moves to block your view.

“Well you can do that another day. We’re _busy_,” she hisses out, and you spot her claws tensing, ready to strike. But Terezi hits first, hand strong as it smacks against her own hand, grabbing it in a painful grip.

“It’s pretty important, Carmia. Important enough to maybe make me slip and tell some pigs about a certain group of yours,” Terezi cackles out, head tilting to the side. Ardata pales at the words, before a furious blue flush floods her face.

“You teal bitch,” she growls, “if you even think about it-!”

“Then let us in, and we’ll be out of your hair,” Terezi bargains back, and you can practically hear Ardata’s teeth grinding.

“Fine. Five minutes, that’s all.”

Terezi grinned back, hand releasing the other’s, before sauntering into the room, cane wildly thwacking the mahogany furniture. You reflexively wince at the splinters that seem to split off from where she hits it, and a quick glance at Ardata reveals the face of someone about to commit a murder. You decide to hurry on in after Terezi, and grip her arm still.

“No need to antagonise our hosts further,” you murmur, and she smirks, but acquiesces nonetheless.

“So, Jake,” you say, turning to look at the beefy man sat tensely on the luxurious couch. He flinches at your voice, and you wonder how someone like this was able to rise to stardom. But before you can finish your thought, something inside him seems to harden, and he sits up, eyes steely as he looks the two of you over.

“What is it?” He asks tersely, hands gripping the silky couch covering.

“We were wondering if you might now the whereabouts of a... mutual friend. One Calliope Lalonde.”

His eyes dart away from yours, and he mumbles out, “Haven’t seen her.”

Terezi leans in close to him, and you grimace at the way her tongue flaps in the air.

“I taste a lie!” She calls out, scratchy voice delighted and playful.

“Come now, Mr English. There’s no need for lying. We were simply hired by her wife to find out where she’s gone. And certain sources pointed us in your direction,” you explain calmly, pulling out your notebook and pen.

“So please, help us out, and maybe we can help you back.”

He swallows, throat bobbing nervously.

“Look, I can’t tell you. Not if I...” he trails off, fear clear in his voice, and you decide to take a softer approach.

“We’re not here to hurt anyone, Jake. We just want to help a client reunite with her loved one. That’s all. If you’re being threatened, or are in danger, then we’ll be as discreet as possible,” you offer kindly, reaching out to pat him on a trembling hand.

“You don’t understand,” he whispers hoarsely, “you don’t understand what the Felt is like.”

Bingo.

“So the Felt is involved?” You ask, and he blanches.

“No. Yes. I don’t know-,” he stutters out, eyes darting across the room as though an assassin is about to leap out and silence him.

“Jake,” Terezi speaks up, red glasses boring into his form, “if you help us catch ‘em, then you won’t have anything to worry about.”

“They’ve got my fucking Grandma, how can I not worry?!” He snarls out, yanking his hand away from your own. There’s a wild fear in his face, and you know that if you don’t diffuse the situation _now_, the you’re going to have problems.

“Then let us help you. All we need is an address,” you say calmly, body loosening in case you need to spring out of the way. He stares at you, flinty green eyes carving into your skin, but there’s a hesitation in his body.

Hook.

“We won’t raise much attention. All we want to do is find Calliope, and with your help, we can do that, and more.”

He trembles softly, lowering his head in contemplation.

Line.

“And who knows,” Terezi continues, “we might even be able to put English down once and for all.”

He breathes in sharply, and you know you’ve got him.

“Okay,” he whispers.

Sinker.

You sit next to him, nodding in thanks.

“Wonderful. Thank you, Jake. And I promise, we’ll do everything we can. Now what can you tell us?”

* * *

413 Maplehoof Street.

A dilapidated warehouse that Jake used to use as a storage space for old costumes, before Lord English and the Felt gang-pressed him into relinquishing control. Having the backing of a famous actor is handy, Jake had explained morosely.

You and Terezi had changed out of your fancy garb long ago, and both of your work suits blend in well with the surrounding darkness.

“So, what’s the game plan, detective?” Terezi asks you, teeth glinting in the moonlight. You smile back, taking a drag of your cigarette.

“I called in a few favours with a rival gang. They agreed to offer a distraction and intel for us, and they confirmed that Calliope Lalonde is in there. But... so is Caliborn,” you explain. She swears, smirk falling off her face as her brows furrow.

“Well, there goes the easy in-n-out plan,” she sighs, and you grimace.

“Unfortunately, yes, but at the very least, we can maybe bust him and the police commissioner together. That way, he won’t keep escaping,” you point out. Her eyes close in frustration, before she nods once.

“True enough. Still, it’s a shitty situation. You said we had back-up? From who, exactly?”

At that moment, an explosion goes off close by, and the two of you whip around to face the direction it came from. Your gun is raised and ready to shoot, while Terezi stands defensively with her knife whipped out of her cane, face twisted into a snarl.

Damn, that’s kinda hot.

You quickly relax though, once you realise what just happened.

“And there’s the distraction,” you say smugly, delighted that you managed to pull a fast one on Terezi. She turns to look at you, voice high-pitched in anger and shock.

“What the fuck do you mean?!”

A black figure darts across the street, and you recognise his bulkiness. He tosses a Molotov cocktail against the warehouse, before sprinting back as a small figure darts out after him, waving a gun angrily.

“That,” you point out, “was Hearts Boxcars, lieutenant of the Midnight Crew.”

“You got the Midnight Crew to help?!” She asks incredulously, and you nod, satisfied. She seems like she’s about to say something else, but you see a small flash of light.

“Now!” You hiss, dragging her over to a side entrance of the building. Terezi sprints beside you, watching carefully as the door swings open. A small black figure greets them, an excited grin on their face.

“Way to go, Deuce,” you whisper, and he babbles in glee, waving his... bullpenis cane around. God, you had hoped never to see that thing again.

“It’s good to go,” you explain to Terezi, who nods in determination. You turn back to Deuce.

“Do you know where Calliope is?”

He nods, and points up the stairs, before making a few twisty motions with his hands.

“Up there, right, up, and then left?” You ask, before grinning at his rapid nod. You grasp Terezi’s hand again, momentarily enjoying its warmth.

“Let’s go rescue her then!” She grins back at you, and the two of you scurry up the stairs, catching only a glimpse of Deuce turning back to cause more mayhem.

You weave your way through the corridors, carefully trying not to be spotted, although it seems like most of the gang members have been drawn down to the streets to face off against the intruders. Neither of you seem to have even been noticed. Just before making the last left, Terezi stops, nose high up in the air. A scowl etches onto her face.

“He’s here. Both him and Scratch,” she spits out, cane held threateningly. You immediately go on high alert.

“Do we attack?” You wonder out loud, before grunting softly at the light hit Terezi gives to you.

“No! I want to catch ‘em, remember! And I’ve got just the trick to do it!”

Before you can ask _how _and_ what_, she’s already darted forward, a camera in one hand, while her cane is gripped firmly in the other. From the other end of it, you can see the glint of a knife, but also... rope?

You stumble after her, gun held in both of your hands. Terezi gently cracks open a door, and hisses slightly. She tilts her head towards it pointedly, and you understand the meaning.

They’re in there.

Showtime, you think.

You creep up to the cracked open door, and peer through it. It’s mostly empty, with a few long windows letting moonlight spill into the room. A table and several chairs are scattered around. You see a green woman slumped in one of them, ropes firmly tying her into place. Calliope.

Two men are faced away from her, one of them arguing in hushed whispers to the other, while the other green figure loudly hurls insults.

Scratch and Caliborn.

“HOW THE FUCK. DID YOU NOT KNOW THIS. YOU SHITTY PIG,” Caliborn screeches out, but Scratch barely appears ruffled.

“I gather that the Mayor has been getting suspicious about my activity for a while, and ordered Renegade to start acting in my stead. As a result, most of my police sanctioned moles did not reveal anything to me about a Crew attack,” he explains in a low tone, and you can pick up a hint of irritation. His calmness however only seems to infuriate Caliborn further.

“THEN WHAT. FUCKING USE. DO I HAVE OF YOU?”

He raises his gun up to shoot, but at that moment, Terezi bursts in.

“Hold it right there, gangster! Don’t fucking move!” She yells out, camera flashing wildly. Caliborn gives a yelp at the bright flashing, but Scratch is unaffected, instead taking his chance to dart away and escape. You leap to block his way, holding your own gun to him.

“On the ground,” you command, and he sneers at you.

“Jane Crocker and Terezi Pyrope. I should have expected your meddling,” he hisses out, and you kick him lightly.

“Ground. Now.”

He reluctantly obeys, and you watch Terezi do the same with Caliborn. She has to physically hold him down and tie him up, as he continues to squirm and bite and kick.

The doors burst open again, and a troop of officers come trailing in, led by a short man covered in yellow.

“Renegade! You came!” Terezi grins out, and he gives a quick nod, before hurrying over to Caliborn and assisting her.

But in that moment, he yanks himself free, and tosses himself away, pulling out a hidden baton. Calliope is right beside him, and he grabs her close, holding the baton threateningly to her head.

“ONE MOVE. AND I SMASH HER FUCKING HEAD. LIKE AN OBESE GRAPE.”

“Let her go. You’re outnumbered English,” you bark out, and he narrows his eyes at you.

“OH. AM I?”

A figure draped in black is suddenly behind him, one delicate hand resting gently on his shoulder.

“TOOK YOU FUCKING. LONG ENOUGH. SN0WBALL,” he yaps out, and the woman hums.

“I apologise boss,” she says, the husky drawl immediately recognisable. Caliborn turns back to look at us.

“YOU LET US GO. AND WE’LL LET THE BITCH GO. AGREED?”

“No fucking way-!” Terezi screeches out, but you grab her arm. She turns to look at you, betrayal in her face.

“Jane- I- We had an agreement,” she says stonily, and you bite your lip.

“I know, I know, but... I promised to-!”

The window smashes open, and a familiar woman lands between the shards, aiming a rifle at Caliborn’s head.

“Let my wife go, you motherfucker, and I won’t blow your brains out,” Roxy Lalonde hisses. Caliborn squawks, stumbling back in shock and letting Calliope go, while Snowman whips around to face Roxy. Terezi takes this moment to dive forward and grab Caliborn, kicking out with a leg to topple Snowman from her balance. She stumbles, and warps away, disappearing without a trace.

“Gotcha you bastard,” Terezi grins, though there’s disappointment in her face at the loss of Snowman. Like a spell has been broken, Roxy dashes over to her wife, cutting the ropes away and pulling her into her arms. The officers rush over to Caliborn and take him into custody, with Terezi beaming like she’s won the lottery.

You saunter over, pulling her up from her position on the floor. She opens her mouth to say something, but is interrupted by the sight of Roxy waving at the two of you.

“Detective! Thank you so much for all your help! I’m sorry I burst in like that, but after you tol’ me of your plans... I just couldn’ leave my sweetheart alone! But you’ve done so much for me, so thank you,” she gushes, arms encircled around her wife. Calliope grins lovingly, and turns to look at you.

“My wife told me what you did,” she says softly, voice kind and gentle, “and I wanted to thank you as well.”

You laugh awkwardly and shrug, but Terezi throws an arm around your shoulders and grins.

“It was no problem at all! If anything, we should be thanking you Mrs Lalonde, for your quick save!”

Roxy titters, a blush blooming on her cheeks, and Calliope giggles.

“My very own hero,” she says, and Roxy tries to shush her.

“Anyway! We’re gonna head off now, I think we’ve both had more than enough excitement for a long time! Again, thank you so much! Without you and your partner, I probably still wouldn’t have my Callie back!”

With that, the two spouses head off, hands tightly clasped in each other’s. You smile at the sight, only to startle at a sharp elbow catching you in the shoulder. Terezi grins at you, and you smirk back.

“Well then, Pyrope. Looks like we both upheld our agreement,” you nod towards the departing happy couple and the swearing Caliborn. She smirks at you, and leans close.

“I guess we did.”

For a moment, neither of you talk, instead gripping each other in a frozen moment of entangled hands and unspoken words. Then her smile softens, and time starts to move again.

“Maybe we should pair up more often,” she suggests light-heartedly, and a knowing smile breaks out on your face.

“Maybe so,” you reply. The two of you are as close to each other as you were in the Club, breath tickling each other’s faces.

“How about... we go discuss this more over dinner?” You offer slyly, and she throws her head back and cackles.

“Oh? Asking me on a date?” Her voice is brimming with amusement, but there’s no rejection, no dismissal. Instead, she leans even closer and presses a small kiss to your cheek, before pulling away and flouncing off.

“I’ll see you at 7pm at Stride’s, so dress up nicely,” she calls out to you, and disappears in the throng of officers. You swallow, and reach up a hand to your cheek. You can feel yourself grinning dopily.

Partners, huh?

You could get used to that.

But for now? You had a date to prepare for.


End file.
